Cold treatment for the golden boy

Suggest to Lenny Krayzelburg, the world's finest backstroker, that the Cold War is long since over, and he has every right to view the claim with some scepticism. When he claimed a clean sweep in backstroke gold medals yesterday, the achievement could not be allowed to pass without yet another invitation for him to extol the perfection of the American Dream.

Krayzelburg, born in Ukraine and swimming for the US, is as much a reluctant political symbol as a champion swimmer. His Jewish family left the Soviet Union for west Hollywood 11 years ago, exchanging the fear of Soviet anti-Semitism for a new start in the Land of Opportunity. Hollywood could knock up the script in no time.

Krayzelburg is, to date, America's only double gold winner in a week in which they have so far overpowered the Australians by nine golds to four. His 100m swim fell just outside the world record he had expected to break. His 200m swim yesterday was not as fluent and he admitted that it hurt. "I just lay on the mat and was in so much pain as if my body was in cramp. I could move my arms but I couldn't control them," he said.

But if his two finals were challenging enough, they were not nearly as tricky as satisfying the political inclinations of both East and West. At the Olympics, patriotism likes to line up its armies. America's army is expected perpetually to stand to attention.

"I don't know what the American Dream is, but if other people think that this is the American Dream I'm living, then that's fair enough by me," Krayzelburg once said.

At an Olympics, that is not enough. As an American citizen since 1995, it is time for him to deliver. He must forever satisfy national pride by exploring his innermost emotions; his Americanism. Whether asked to "elaborate upon his American journey" or invited to reveal his thoughts on the medal podium when the stars and stripes was raised, he has retreated into confused and noncommittal comments, about how he reflected upon his life or about how he has always uncomplainingly faced his challenges. The question means little to him.

After his first gold, Krayzelburg had also been asked if the Soviet system had played a part in his success. The question had the feel of a mischievous left-wing plant. He answered honestly. "I think growing up in Russia and being in the communist system still played a big part in my development as a person and an athlete," he said. "The work ethic and dedication that I have had through my career I must have learned in the Soviet Union when I was nine."

He has powerful childhood memories of his life in the Soviet Union. When he was 10 he was swimming five hours a day, running and doing weights. Demands were so intense that when he left Russia at 13 he recalls that "95% of the team had quit". His mental strength has carried him forward ever since.

But to an element of the American media, and indeed a fair slice of the American public, Krayzelburg's use of the dreaded "C" word was unacceptable. At the time of his greatest triumph, his patriotism is being questioned more than ever before.

But there is no Olympic rule that insists competitors must be fired by nationalism. There is no absolute requirement for Krayzelburg to wrap himself nightly in the flag, or wear Uncle Sam underpants. He is an internationalist. He is grateful for his family's opportunity, but does not feel entirely American.

As he walked away from the medal ceremony, his double secured with victory in the 200m final, he leapt into the crowd and ran up the terracing to exchange kisses and tears with his father Oleg, who abandoned his coffee shop in Odessa, emigrated for the sake of his family and spent nine months looking for work. It was a rare display of emotion from an athlete who has learned the advantages of keeping his feelings in check.

"The only people I have ever looked up to are my parents," he once said. He believes in people and family, not country. Americans can continue to suggest, if they must, that he resembles a Californian beach boy; one magazine even made him one of the world's 50 most eligible men. Krayzelburg plays the image down. "No matter how much I shower with soap, I always smell of chlorine." Sometimes, the same holds good for patriotism.